


Never Saw It Coming

by wentzdigo



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meetings, Hate at First Sight, M/M, Relationship Development
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wentzdigo/pseuds/wentzdigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only that unwritten rule of <i>we-don’t-have-assigned-seats-but-where-you-sit-on-the-first-day-is-your-assigned-seat</i> didn’t exist. </p><p>Then maybe, just maybe, Chris wouldn’t be ready to pull his hair out every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Awkward and Nervous

**Author's Note:**

> “I sit behind you in a class and all you do during the lesson is watch cat videos and YouTube and it’s very distracting.”

If only that unwritten rule of "we-don’t-have-assigned-seats-but-where-you-sit-on-the-first-day-is-your-assigned-seat" didn’t exist. Then maybe, just maybe, Chris wouldn’t be ready to pull his hair out every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon.

Of course he had to sit behind some loser stoner who wears a beanie every day and never pays attention to the lecture. Sure, he’s got his laptop open and seems attentive enough, but unbeknownst to the professor and apparently everyone else, all he has open is a YouTube tab playing some gaming channel with the captions on. What the fuck.

Unfortunately, Chris, being the nerd he is, can’t help but shift focus from the professor’s (ironically) undecorated powerpoint on art history to this kid’s laptop screen. Especially since he’s watching a play through series on one of his favorite games and this professor has an almost comically monotonous voice.

 _Bueller. Bueller._ Chris repeats in his head, making a point to look past this guy’s screen and read the slides in front of them. He spins his pen in his hand before jotting down something about Rembrandt and his brilliant contributions to the Baroque period. It’s boring, and art or anything related has never been his strongest subject, but he needed an elective and this one let him keep his Fridays off. Now he wonders if it was worth it, struggling with the subject matter as is and dealing with this mother of in-class distractions on top of that. He steals a glance at a particularly explosive scene in the video and finds himself wondering how this kid is doing in the class considering that he never pays attention.

***

He gets his answer three lectures later. It’s a Thursday afternoon, and the class is tasked with analyzing paintings from different eras and explaining their interpretations. _Josh_ has been able to name each and every artist, technique, and period, including the obscure ones. His voice is low, and he talks slow and smooth like molasses. The professor is pleased, and Chris is furious.

“It’s fucking unbelievable!” Chris exclaims, crossing the shaggy purple rug in Ashley’s apartment.  
“Every class. Every single class, this _Josh_ guy doesn’t pay even a little bit of attention, while I,” he says as he gestures to himself dramatically, “am suffering. Every. Day.”

Ashley snickers behind her hand from the couch, watching Chris pace like an agitated animal.  
“Oh quit with the dramatics, you only suffer two days a week. Maybe he’s got photographic memory?” she suggests, still giggling.

“Or maybe he’s made a deal with Satan. Or maybe he is Satan,” he gasps as if he’s just made a discovery.

“Chris,” Ashley raises an eyebrow and cocks her head to the side, drawing his name out.

“Ashe,” he replies, mocking her tone. She stares at him until he groans and plops down onto the couch next to her.  
“It’s just not fair,” he whines, sliding down the couch with his shoulders slumped.

“You know you don’t actually have to sit behind him, right? You do this to yourself, dude,” she says reaching into a bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table in front of them. She picks out the green ones and offers them to Chris.

“You can’t insult me and then offer me green M&M’s, Ashehole,” he sulks, taking them and popping them all into his mouth at once.

“I’m not insulting you! It’s true,” she says, rolling her eyes and shoving him lightly. 

“Seriously, Christopher, why do you sit behind him if you know you’ll be distracted?”

“Because the class is sooo boring and as distracting as it is, it’s a welcome distraction.” He pauses thoughtfully and mutters, “I just wish it was as hard as him as it is for me.”

“Christopher! That is an awful thing to wish on somebody you don’t even know!”

“I know his name!” he says defensively. Ashley scoffs and let’s out a laugh. 

“Oh, excuse my mistake, then,” she replies sarcastically, smiling at him with that “you’re-a-dummy-but-I-tolerate-you-anyways” smile that he’s all too familiar with. He smiles back at her sweetly before they scroll through her Netflix account and land on an episode of Friends they’ve seen a hundred times.

***

The following Tuesday, _Josh_ isn’t watching a video game play through. He’s watching cat videos.

Chris squints at the screen in disbelief as the professor is going through class announcements and an overview of the day’s lesson.

 _At least that isn’t nearly as interesting_ he decides, sorting through his notebooks before pulling out the one labeled (f)Art History. He added the “(f)” on that Thursday he decided Josh was the most annoying person on campus. He opens to the next blank page, determined to get through the class without looking at his screen.

Fifteen minutes in, the professor is droning and his determination falters. Josh is still watching cat videos instead of play throughs, but Chris notices his shoulders shaking lightly as if he’s stifling laughter. Chris adjusts himself to get a clear look at the laptop, curious, just in time to see some fluffy thing hanging onto a spinning ceiling fan for dear life.

He lets out a bark of laughter, surprising not only himself, but Josh and everyone else in the class. Josh immediately startles and turns around, just as red in the face as Chris assumes he is himself. It’s the first time he’s seen his face, and the first thing that crosses his mind is “not bad,” whatever that means. He kicks himself for it.

“Is there a problem, mister…?” the professor trails off, clearly not knowing his name.

“No sir. Sorry,” Chris squeaks, covering his face.

“Okay. Now then, Filippo Brunelleschi’s three dimensional contributions to the Renaissance…” Chris barely hears, ears hot and buzzing with embarrassment.

 _Life ruiner. Life ruiner!_ he thinks, glaring holes into the back of stupid Josh’s stupid beanie. If he didn’t hate him before, he certainly does now. He dares to glance in front of him again, and Josh actually has his laptop closed and his head propped up on his elbows.

The rest of the class is spent entirely distraction free, and Chris finds himself wishing Josh would just open up his laptop again.

When class finally ends, Chris is already packed and set to bolt before the professor even announces the homework. He shakes his leg, anxious to get up and go home as soon as they’re dismissed. He’s not sure why he’s so antsy. After all, that fleeting moment of embarrassment has already been forgotten, and he knows that no one is going to bother him about it. Still, he’s just ready to leave. The clock ticks into the last minute of class, and he gets up, subtly speed walking towards the exit.

He tries to count how many hours it’ll be until Ashe is done with class and thinks about calling her to hang out and tell her how much more he hates—

“Hey!” a vaguely recognizable voice calls after him. 

It takes Chris a second, but he realizes who that low voice belongs to. He mentally checks himself to make sure his face doesn’t scream “you’re an asshole!” before turning around.

“I, uh. I’m Josh,” he says sheepishly, jogging awkwardly to catch up to Chris. Chris is standing stiff, not sure what to think.

“Yeah, I know,” he replies tightly. As soon as it slips out, he feels his face redden, especially seeing Josh’s puzzled expression in return. 

“You know?” Josh asks. 

Close up, he’s even better looking than Chris had thought initially. His has full pink lips and huge eyes that make him look like a puppy with his head cocked to the side in confusion. It’s making this encounter way harder than it already is, and Chris is absolutely kicking himself again.

“Y-yeah, I’ve, uh. Heard the professor,” Chris gestures vaguely towards the classroom as he stammers, “you know? Say your name.” Making a slight fool out of himself in a class of 50 people was bad enough, but this one person, this _Josh_ was making him want the floor to open beneath him and swallow him whole. He might be crazy, but he swears his glasses are starting to fog because his face is so hot. 

Josh squints at him for a second before his face lights up in realization.  
“Oh, yeah! Of course. Duh,” he taps his forehead and waves his hand, laughing awkwardly and a little too hard. He sighs loudly, abruptly cutting himself off. “So…?” Josh looks as him expectantly.

“Chris!” he exclaims when he figures out what Josh is waiting for. He coughs, and repeats “I’m Chris,” more calmly.

“So, Chris,” Josh smiles at him crookedly. “Sorry about that in class. I guess I didn’t think anyone saw my laptop or anything.”

“Oh no, no,” Chris says quickly. “No biggie bro. Just caught me off guard. Pretty funny stuff!” He feels stupid and unsure of himself, wanting this to end despite finding Josh to be a lot nicer and goofier than he’d expected. 

“Have you, uh. Have you seen my stuff all semester, then?” Josh asks, crinkling his nose a bit. 

“Well, here and there. I mean, it’s just there sometimes, and I see it, but I don’t like. Watch it over your shoulder or anything,” and he knows that sounds like the biggest lie in the world. Likely because it is.

“No worries, man,” Josh says hastily, shaking his head and putting his hand up, “I’d just feel awful if I distracted you!”

 _You have no idea,_ Chris thinks, but outwardly smiles.

“Anyways,” Josh continues, “I’ll see you around?”

“Probably on Thursday!” Chris says enthusiastically, pointing finger guns in Josh's direction. He hopes Josh realizes he meant it to sound funny and not that he was creepily excited to see him. Because he totally wasn’t. 

“Yeah, I guess so, huh,” the wide grin and slight chuckle Josh gives tells him he took it the right way. “Later, bro,” he says and claps him on the shoulder before walking off. 

“Later,” Chris mumbles quietly in response, despite the fact that Josh is long gone.


	2. I'm Working On Sleeping On The Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When Chris wakes to slivers of sunlight cutting through the blinds on Thursday morning, he feels a twist in his stomach that he can't immediately correlate to anything. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one where Chris and Josh become friends, and it's going to ruin Chris's life.

When Chris wakes to slivers of sunlight cutting through the blinds on Thursday morning, he feels a twist in his stomach that he can't immediately correlate to anything. He wonders if he's sick until flashbacks of finger guns and an awkward hallway conversation creep into his brain, and he audibly groans and covers his face with his pillow. Yeah, he definitely feels sick now.

***

"I don't think I'm ready to face him," he whines to Ashley over the phone, making his way across campus. His first two classes were uneventful as ever, which he realizes is something he never fully appreciated until now. He'd always been a fan of laying low and avoiding call outs from the professor and people that made his insides turn in weird ways. 

"So don't face him, Chris!" Ashley says over the whirring of a coffee grinder. "It's not like you owe him your friendship or promised him a drink. Besides, you hated this guy last week, right?"

"I know, I know," Chris replies, walking slow and cautious as the Fine Arts building came into view. He pauses at the crosswalk despite a lack of traffic and frowns. "I don't know why I'm so...concerned about it," he ends with a slight question in his voice, unsure if that was an accurate description of his emotions.

"Well, why are you?" she asks, and Chris can hear that she expects a legitimate response. The trouble was that he wasn't sure he had one. He'd thought about it since Tuesday, as he walked to the bus, rode it home, and drove to work, where he continued to think about it into Wednesday morning at 2 AM. And so on until this conversation, where he still didn't really have a solid answer. It was infuriating, and Chris really hated this guy. Or something. 

"Never mind," he hears Ashley say, suddenly aware that he hadn't responded. "It's not that important. Try not to stress about it so much. I'm sure he isn't," she says sympathetically. 

Chris feels a pang in his stomach and mutters "yeah, you're right," followed by "hey, I gotta go Ashe." He hangs up quickly and jogs up the stairs to the building. As he makes his way towards the lecture hall, he feels more nerves that he can't place and reflects on Ashley's parting words. She's probably right, he knows that. But for some reason that doesn't ease his mind at all. In fact, he wonders if it's made things worse, and he suddenly wishes he wasn't so early to class. There was still a lecture in session for about 7 more minutes, so he's forced to stand outside of the room accompanied by a handful of other early birds. Chris knew he was slightly awkward, but he had a few very close friends which was all he felt was necessary to get by. He was "funny with the right timing" and "endearingly nerdy," according to Ashley and the subsequent nods of agreement at his basement graduation party. He rubs his temples and takes out his phone, refusing to reflect on it any more than he has already. 

He scrolls through the Reddit app on his phone, making as little eye contact as possible with his classmates, per usual. As he laughs quietly at some ridiculous thread about being "hashtag deep," he hears a "hey man!" from the voice that's been replaying in his head since Tuesday afternoon. 

He looks up, hoping that it appeared more casual than it felt, and grins. "What's up?" he asks, his voice surprisingly steady considering the past two days he's had. 

"Not much bro," Josh responds, lifting his shoulders and smiling, hands loosely gripping the straps of his backpack. "Ready for class?" 

"Hardly," he says, pulling a face. "I'm actually awful at this stuff. You're not, though," he rambles, raising his eyebrows and nodding towards Josh. He wonders why he doesn't end his thoughts a sentence early and hopes that he didn't make Josh feel awkward for any reason. 

Thankfully, Josh laughs warmly and shakes his head. "Nah, nah, I'm just a big art nerd and have taken a lot of these history classes in the past. Hell, I've even had Lockhart already," he says, rolling his eyes. "He's so pretentious."

"Art nerd, huh," Chris says as people from the previous class begin filing out of the room. "So what are you doing in this beginner's class, then?" he asks, genuinely curious. He figures Josh has a pretty extensive knowledge of art and its history, and that a class like this would only bore him. Or be an,

"Easy 'A'," Josh says quickly, his eyes shifting to the floor nervously. "I uh, think the room's clear," he points out, looking past Chris and into the doorway. "Shall we?"

"I suppose we shall," Chris says, feeling slightly more comfortable now that they had spoken. He was glad they happened to chat before class, because the torture of sitting behind him might have been too much. They make their way to the seats they claimed weeks ago, and when Chris slides into the far side of his double desk, Josh asks to sit next to him. 

"If you don't mind?" Josh finishes with a friendly smile. "I know some people like their space, and if you do that's cool."

"Nah bro, it's cool. This side of the bed's all yours," he says, gesturing to the empty chair to his right. _Why bed? Why did you say bed?_ he screams internally. This is definitely what his friends meant by "funny with the right timing," he's sure of it. All Chris can do is hope that Josh appreciates his lame and inappropriately intimate sense of humor. He also hopes that his face doesn't give away the panic he's feeling over that poor choice of words. Ashley's told him over and over again that it's impossible for him to hide his emotions because his face is an open book—a tell-all of his internal monologues and genuine opinions of people or his surroundings. She swears it's sweet and a good thing, but he grows to resent it more every day. 

Josh just waggles his brows and sings "don't mind if I do, man," as he slides into the seat next to Chris. As Josh bends over his backpack, Chris looks to the sky and mouths 'thank god' at the ceiling, relieved that Josh was pretty cool about it. In fact, he seemed to be pretty cool about everything that Chris hasn't been, and a slight twinge of annoyance manifests from that realization. He suppresses it and grabs his notebook and a pen from his messenger bag. 

Josh opens his laptop, and Chris takes note of the background: a graphic of a skull transitioning into an hourglass, the sand appearing as snowfall onto a serene looking cabin. "Kinda creepy," Chris says, nodding towards the screen. "Is it from a movie?" 

"Not exactly," Josh replies, smiling widely. "Maybe one day, though. It's a poster, of sorts. I drew it up with this crazy story in mind, but ya know. No way to make it come to fruition." Chris gawks, realizing that not only is Josh a goddamn art history buff, but an amazing artist himself. 

"Damn, a-are you serious bro? You drew that?!" he gasps, looking at the screen a bit more closely. "That's incredible! I can't even draw a stick figure." Chris opens his notebook to a page littered with sad doodles dancing around the edges of his notes. "See?" 

Chris pretends not to notice the tips of Josh's ears turning pink or the color flushing delicately to the apples of his cheeks. Josh laughs hard at his doodles, telling him that they're not the worst he's ever seen. "I mean, my two year old cousin couldn't even touch these," he teases, sliding Chris's notebook towards him to mock-scrutinize his work. 

Chris snatches it back and laughs "shut up, Picasso," as the professor dims the lights to pull up the announcements. Josh opens a notes tab and a YouTube window, eyes focused towards the front of the classroom. Chris glances at him sideways, hoping that he's subtle enough not to draw Josh's attention. 

_Okay, so I definitely don't hate this kid_ he thinks, lightly tapping his pen to his cheek. In fact, he's probably the fastest friend(?) he's made so far. Something about their dynamic feels natural and familiar, like he's known Josh since he was a kid. Josh pokes his shoulder and he sees a note asking him if he's ever played the game Josh has up on his screen. It appears to be a regular Mario game, but in a flash game type format. He looks at him and shakes his head in slight confusion, unsure. Josh smirks and begins to slide his laptop in Chris's direction. Chris smiles and pushes it back gently, whispering "sorry dude, I need to pay attention." 

Josh rolls his eyes and types _nerd :P_ in his notes before closing the window. The rest of the class goes by quickly, especially with Chris and Josh exchanging little notes throughout the lecture. 

"So," Josh says when they're dismissed and packing up their things, "when can I get you to play Impossible Mario?" Chris looks up from his bag and is met with a mischievous grin beaming at him. 

"Well as much as I don't like the sound of that, nor do I trust that look you're giving me," he starts, interrupted by an offended "Hey!" Chris smiles and stands, offering Friday evening, remembering his brunch date with Ashe earlier in day. 

Josh's wry grin falters slightly, and Chris can see a flash of disappointment cross his face. "Ah, sorry, I can't. I got a thing with Sam." _Sam?_ Chris feels that unwelcome twist in his stomach again, wondering who this Sam is and what they could be doing together on a Friday night. "But um, I'll give you my number? And we can figure something out, yeah?" Josh follows quickly. 

Chris thinks he sounds hopeful, though he's not sure why. He pulls out his phone with a "Sure!" and hands it to Josh with a tight smile. He finds himself happy enough that he might get to talk to Josh more frequently, though now the rules of new friend textiquette are swimming through his brain. 

"There we go," Josh says, handing Chris's phone back. **Josh Washington** followed by a skull and smirk emoji follow, and Chris snorts. 

"Didn't take you for an emoji man," he says. 

"Oh I love em," Josh retorts with exaggerated enthusiasm as they make their way to the exit together. "They speak where words fail." Chris just laughs, thinking this guy is really something else. "Make sure you text me, bro," Josh says casually as they make their way to the corner. "I'll be wounded if you don't," he adds, clutching his chest as he crosses the street, still turned towards Chris. 

"Turn around before you get flattened," Chris calls after him, turning on his heels to trek towards his car. He's wearing a wide grin that he can't seem to shake the entire way home. 

***

Early Friday afternoon, Chris and Ashley are cozied up on their favorite couch at the coffee shop Ashe works at part time. 

"I don't understand you, Chris," Ashley says, chewing on the straw of her iced coffee. "So now you like him?"

"I don't know? Am I supposed to know that?" he asks, digging his fork into some flakey pastry that Ashe recommended. "I came here for late breakfast, not an interrogation." Besides, he doesn't even know how to answer that. It's not like he's never dated anyone, but the majority of his relationships had been friendships that developed into something more, and they weren't terribly serious. 

"Fortunately for you, you get both," she responds flatly, leaning forward to flick sugar off the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay, mom, stop it," he says, swiping her hand away. 

She continues to pester him, asking Chris who he thinks _Sam_ is and when he's going to text Josh and what emojis he's planning to use. It's driving Chris absolutely insane. 

"What about you and Matt, hm? Can we talk about that?" he asks coyly, cocking his head towards the counter. 

Ashley smacks his arm and hisses "don't change the subject." Chris laughs and grabs her iced coffee, taking a sip. "Damn it! You have your own!"

"I know, but yours is better." He sets her coffee down in front of her as the bell on the front door jingles. "Oh my god," is all he can say when he sees Josh saunter in. He looks cooly disheveled in joggers and a blue flannel, curly hair poking out of the front of a worn snapback. 

"Is that him?" Ashe whispers. "He always comes here." Chris whips his attention back to her, and she can't stop herself from giggling at his expression. "You look like you're about to die, Chris. Calm down." 

"I am calm," he snaps. "Why wouldn't I be calm?" 

She gives him a pointed look and says "okay," raising her hands in surrender. "Why didn't you tell me he was such a cutie?" she adds. The look Chris gives her in response could melt flesh, but she just sips on her coffee, smiling unaffected. 

Fortunately, Josh leaves as soon as he gets his coffee, and Chris makes himself as small as possible on the couch as he watches him walk off through the window. 

Chris's face is hot and his stomach feels like a wet rag wrung out. If this is what it's like to 'like' somebody, he wishes it would stop immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses for the lateness of this chapter but I promise I'll try to upload more frequently! Also....I love to torture Chris. My poor nerd son. Thank you so much for the support!! Feedback always appreciated ♡

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chaptered long fic! Sorry the first chapter isn't too long, but I'm excited to write it. Feedback is always appreciated :-)


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